


The Proposition

by Maxine



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, atobe is really picky I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-18 20:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16524032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxine/pseuds/Maxine
Summary: Oshitari doesn't think Atobe can get a date. And he's completely wrong, of course. Obviously!





	The Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Another one written for an exchange. Was originally posted to LJ on May 9, 2007.

It all started with what one might consider an innocent question, fueled by mere curiosity and a desire to know more about one's teammates.  
  
Or that's what it would have been if said question had been asked by anyone other than Oshitari.  
  
“Hey, Atobe,” the boy drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “When was the last time you went on a date with a girl?”  
  
They were at Atobe's house, along with Shishido, books spread out on the carpet in front of them as they did their homework. Shishido glanced up, frowning at Oshitari, and then directed a more interested look toward Atobe.  
  
“I fail to see how that's any of your business,” Atobe said smoothly, barely looking up from his Greek textbook.  
  
“It's just a question,” Oshitari said. “What about you, Shishido?”  
  
Shishido scowled. “It's a _lame_ question.”  
  
“You're not going to answer either?”  
  
“Why should I?” Shishido said. “Does it matter?”  
  
Oshitari sighed in the manner of one who had the weight of the world on his shoulders and no one volunteering to help him with it.  
  
“Why do you even want to know?” Shishido asked.  
  
Oshitari shrugged. “I enjoy being nosy,” he said, shifting around until he was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow.  
  
“Well, when was the last time _you_ went on a date, ahn?” Atobe said.  
  
“Two weeks ago,” Oshitari said promptly. He smirked. “With that girl you turned down from our math class.”  
  
“If you enjoy dating my castoffs, far be it from me to stop you,” Atobe said, flicking his hair back from his eyes. “She must have been desperate for a movie companion if she turned to you.”  
  
“Actually, she was more than pleased and we had a _very_ enjoyable time,” Oshitari drawled, lips stretching into a grin. “Poor girl deserved a good night out after the way _you_ treated her.”  
  
“Is there a point to your blathering, Oshitari?” Atobe asked, finally setting his book down and giving the other boy an annoyed look. “Unlike you, I happen to care about my grades and would very much appreciate being left alone to complete my homework.”  
  
“I just think it's weird,” Oshitari said slowly, eying Atobe steadily, “that for someone who has so many girls fawning over him, you've been on so few dates.”  
  
“Shishido hasn't been on that many dates,” Atobe said, gesturing towards the other boy who was doing his best to ignore them. His shoulders twitched when he heard his name.  
  
“Shishido's different, he doesn't have a fanclub of over one-hundred members willing to obey his every whim.”  
  
“Hey!” Shishido glared. “Shut up about my fanclub!”  
  
“Your _nonexistent_ fanclub,” Oshitari corrected.  
  
“Whatever!” Shishido snapped. “Like I want a bunch of girls slobbering all over me anyway!”  
  
“Sometimes I wonder if I should worry for you two,” Oshitari said with another put-upon sigh.  
  
“If you really must know,” Atobe said, rubbing his fingers in circles at his temple as though having to talk to Oshitari was starting to give him a migraine, “I went on a date just...” He paused, frowning. “Well. Back in-” His brow furrowed briefly, and then he abruptly perked up. “My father's company had a Christmas party. I took a girl to that.”  
  
“You took your _cousin_ to that,” Shishido muttered under his breath.  
  
“Not to mention it was _four months_ ago,” Oshitari said flatly.  
  
Atobe huffed. “I can't help it that I've been busy. The tennis season is starting up again and I've got duties to take care of--”  
  
“You're not even the captain anymore!” Shishido exclaimed. “Hell, you're not even _vice_ captain – you're not even a REGULAR yet!”  
  
“Those are merely labels,” Atobe said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It's clear that I'm still the one in charge, and I'll definitely be playing in the first tournament of the season.”  
  
Oshitari and Shishido glanced at each other, rolling their eyes, and then Shishido spoke up again. “You know, Oshitari's right, it _has_ been ages since you've gone out with a girl.”  
  
“Because you're such an expert, Mr. I've Had One Girlfriend And Am Therefore Now A Master Of Dating Techniques.”  
  
“Don't talk about that,” Shishido grumbled.  
  
“How long did you go out?” Atobe asked. “An entire three weeks?”  
  
“Look, her brother was a jerk and refused to let us be alone, I wasn't going to deal with that!” Shishido said. “And we're not talking about me, we're talking about you!”  
  
“Yes, and as much as I enjoy that particular topic of conversation, I really feel as though we should--”  
  
“I have a proposition for you,” Oshitari interrupted, ignoring the affronted look Atobe gave him. “You have to get a date to the movies by this time tomorrow.”  
  
“... _Or_?” Atobe prompted, when Oshitari didn't appear to be getting ready to say anything else.  
  
Oshitari smirked. “Or you have to go with me.”  
  
Atobe blinked. “...Would it be some sappy romance?”  
  
“Maybe I should clarify myself,” Oshitari said, chuckling. “You'll go with me, and _you'll_ be the girl.”  
  
“I'm not sure I'm following you,” Atobe said with a frown.  
  
Oshitari gave him an appraising look. “I think my sister's dresses should fit you just fine,” he said, and Shishido burst out laughing.  
  
“Atobe in a dress!” he crowed, pointing at the other boy. “It has to happen!”  
  
“I'm amused that you seem to think I've already agreed to this,” Atobe said.  
  
“You don't think you can do it?” Oshitari asked, adjusting his glasses so that the light hit them just right, making them glint in what was probably supposed to be devious sort of way.  
  
“Au contraire, I could get any girl in the school to go out with me!” Atobe grinned, running a hand through his hair, and gave Oshitari a speculative look. “They all love me.”  
  
“Then you shouldn't have a problem,” Oshitari said. “You have one day. Find a date, or you're going with me.”  
  
* * *  
  
“The nerve of him,” Atobe said the next morning, leaning against the row of lockers while he waited for Shishido to grab his books. “He thinks I can't get a date? I could ask anyone in this hallway and they'd agree to go out with me in a second!”  
  
“Then why aren't you?” Shishido asked, shoving another textbook into his bag.  
  
Atobe rolled his eyes. “Obviously I can't just pick someone random – if they're going to be seen in public with me it has to be someone up to my standards. Attractive, well-known but not too popular, good academic reputation, athletic...”  
  
“Plays tennis?” Shishido suggested.  
  
“No, unfortunately the girls' team is somewhat lacking in appealing choices, I've already been through the list of names.”  
  
“You are _way_ too picky,” Shishido said, slamming the door of his locker shut. “Oshitari already has this in the bag if that's the way you're going to be.”  
  
“Excuse you,” Atobe sniffed. “I find it offensive that you seem to have so little faith in me.”  
  
Shishido sighed, looking up and down the hall. “Fine,” he said. “What about her?”  
  
Atobe glanced toward where the other boy was pointing.  
  
“You must be joking,” he said, lip curling. “She looks like she hasn't brushed her hair in at least two hours.”  
  
“It's just curly.”  
  
“It looks hideous.”  
  
“Alright,” Shishido said, doing his best to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice. “What about her?”  
  
“Too fat.”  
  
“Her?”  
  
“Too skinny.”  
  
“Okay, that one then.”  
  
“Way too tall.”  
  
“ _Her_?”  
  
“She looks like a man.”  
  
“...She does _not_.”  
  
“Face it, Shishido,” Atobe said with a dramatic sigh. “There's simply no one here who is possibly worthy of my time.” He frowned. “When did Hyoutei start accepting any old riffraff off the street?” he asked. “I'll have to speak to the director about this.”  
  
“You're impossible,” Shishido said. “And we've got class. Come on.”  
  
* * *  
  
By lunchtime, Atobe still didn't have a date. Not that he was worried. He knew he only had to smile at a girl and they'd turn into a puddle at this feet. That wasn't the problem.  
  
The problem was that apparently Shishido was right.  
  
He was far, _far_ too picky.  
  
“Had any luck yet?” Oshitari asked as they sat down at what just happened to be the best table in the cafeteria. Atobe had kicked some upperclassmen away from it on the first day of classes, claiming that the location of the table would be the most aesthetically pleasing for him because it was in the direct path of the biggest window, and the mid-afternoon sunlight that streamed through just happened to alight his hair in quite a beneficial manner.  
  
Gakuto had complained that the sun blinded him while he was trying to eat.  
  
Atobe corrected him by saying that was just his magnificent brilliance.  
  
“I haven't asked anyone,” Atobe said, picking through the lunch his mother had lovingly had the maids pack for him.  
  
Oshitari blinked, looking – in Atobe's opinion – much like a retarded owl behind his gigantic glasses lenses. “If you wanted to go to the movies with me that badly, you only had to ask.”  
  
“You would only be so lucky,” Atobe said loftily, as Jiroh plopped down in the seat beside him.  
  
“What's going on?” he asked, words interspersed with a yawn.  
  
“Oshitari doesn't think I can get a date,” Atobe replied.  
  
Jiroh rubbed at his eyes, and then crossed his arms across the top of the table and rested his head on them. “Why not?”  
  
“Apparently I haven't _gone out_ in awhile,” Atobe muttered.  
  
“Well,” Jiroh said, yawning again, “it's been six months, you know.”  
  
“He knows better than you do,” Oshitari said, smirking.  
  
“That's so not true,” Atobe said. “There was my father's Christmas party--”  
  
“You brought your cousin,” Jiroh murmured, and then promptly drifted off to sleep.  
  
Oshitari chuckled. “Try the other one,” he said.  
  
Atobe glared at him and stole some of his sushi when he wasn't looking.  
  
* * *  
  
Last period, and Atobe was beginning to wonder if maybe he should start worrying. Which was silly. Because it wasn't like he'd been getting turned down all day, he just hadn't bothered to _ask_ anyone. And there were plenty of girls in his class. It wouldn't be a problem trying to find someone.  
  
He glanced down the aisle, trying to decide which lovely lady he should grace with his presence, and found...no one. A girl in the front row looked okay from the back, but Atobe knew that she had glasses the size of Oshitari's and a big nose to go with them. Another girl's hair was too frizzy. Someone else had a such a large smile that Atobe often thought she was planning on eating him whenever she looked his way.  
  
It was a shame, really, that there were so few decent women in the world.  
  
Shishido kicked at his ankle. “What about her?” he hissed when Atobe frowned at him. “The one with the braids.”  
  
“Okay, no,” Atobe whispered back. “One, she has _braids_. Two, Oshitari dated her for a week in middle school.”  
  
Shishido blinked. “Does that matter?”  
  
“I'm not dating his leftovers,” Atobe said, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
“You're running out of time,” Shishido said. “You need to just ask someone.”  
  
“I have _plenty_ of time,” Atobe said. “He said I have all day, I assume that means during practice, too.”  
  
“But you'll be practicing during practice,” Shishido muttered.  
  
“My fanclub will be there.” Atobe paused. “I've never actually paid attention to them – are any of them good looking?”  
  
Shishido rolled his eyes and held his hand up to his head like he was shooting a gun. “So do you prefer pink or purple?” he asked after a moment.  
  
“Periwinkle, actually. Why?”  
  
“I'm helping pick a dress for you to wear tonight,” Shishido said. “And I remember Oshitari's sister always wore a lot of pink.”  
  
“Oh. Midnight blue, in that case.” Atobe flicked his hair back, grinning. “I find that darker colors help my features stand out more. And they really bring out the color of my eyes.”  
  
Shishido let his head drop down to the desk, where he continued to bang it off the wood a few times in an attempt to drown out Atobe's voice.  
  
“Although,” Atobe continued, oblivious, “I won't be needing the dress. Because I'll have a date.”  
  
“I'm sure you will,” Shishido mumbled to the desk.  
  
* * *  
  
Tennis practice rolled around and Atobe was still utterly dateless. Though this was more because he'd made it a habit to completely ignore the cheering, drooling girls huddled up in the stands of the tennis courts while he was playing, and so ingrained in his head was this that he forgot that today he wasn't supposed to be ignoring them. By the time he'd remembered that he was supposed to be talking them up and making one of them the luckiest girl in the country, most of the (he assumed) good ones had left, leaving only a few stragglers who Atobe wouldn't dare be caught in a movie theater with. Or a restaurant. Hell, the only place he _might_ be willing to be seen at with them was the pound, and that was only because he'd be leaving them there.  
  
“I've hit a roadblock, Jiroh,” he said, sitting underneath a giant umbrella and sipping a strawberry daiquiri one of his servants had handed him. He looked over his shoulder at one of the girls seated a ways behind him. “I can either ask that girl with the huge front teeth out, or I can hope that all of the numbers I've got in my little black book lead to attractive females and not a monster from the black lagoon or something the cat dragged in.”  
  
Jiroh snored helpfully in reply.  
  
“Good point,” Atobe murmured. “ _Women_. They're always changing their appearance, I don't think I trust any of them to look the same as they did when I first got their number.”  
  
Which only left the girl with the big front teeth.  
  
“Dresses aren't so bad,” Atobe said. “I've got great legs for it, at least.”  
  
Jiroh mumbled something incomprehensible and rolled over on the bench.  
  
Atobe frowned at him. “You're no help at all,” he said, and looked out across the courts to where Oshitari was playing a singles match with Gakuto.  
  
He was still watching when one of the upperclassmen stomped over to him.  
  
“Hey. Freshman,” whoever the hell it was said – it wasn't as if Atobe could be bothered to remember all their names. “You're supposed to be out there picking up balls.”  
  
Atobe looked at him. “You have two hands, ahn?” he said silkily. “I'm sure you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself. It's not difficult,” he continued, when the other boy tried to say something. “The baskets are right over there, and it shouldn't even take you too long.” He stood up with a flourish, handing his empty glass to the befuddled boy. “If you need help, there are several other people milling about who I'm sure would be more than willing.” He pointed in the direction of a group of more upperclassmen, and then without waiting for a reply, headed off to the showers.  
  
Leaving practice early wasn't normally something Atobe did, but then again he didn't normally lose to people either, so there were clearly more pressing matters at hand. Oshitari would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't find a date in the next hour or so.  
  
He mulled it over while he was in the shower, taking his time because he was the only one in there. He could command the entire Hyoutei student population with a snap of his fingers, yet there wasn't one girl he could think of that he'd be willing to take out? Was that even possible?  
  
With an annoyed huff, Atobe shut off the shower and shook the excess water from his hair. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back out to his locker to grab his clothes-  
  
-and promptly halted in his tracks when he saw Oshitari already seated on the bench.  
  
“...” said Atobe, blinking at the other boy. And because that was hardly an acceptable greeting, he quickly added, “...Can I help you?”  
  
“Just thought I'd check and see if you'd gotten anywhere yet,” Oshitari drawled, pulling one foot up onto the bench and draping his arm over his knee. Atobe swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.  
  
“I've gotten plenty of places,” he said. “I've got an entire plan worked out, in fact, which I'm about to put into action. So if you would kindly remove your very much unwanted presence from the front of my locker so that I can get dressed, I'll be able to carry out said plan.”  
  
Oshitari smirked and shrugged. “As you wish,” he said, standing from the bench, and what happened next is the sort of thing that only occurs when the Entire Universe has something against you. Because only on very rare occasions were there empty shampoo bottles on the floor of the Hyoutei locker room, as they were normally picked up and thrown away by the cleaning service that visited daily. And only on even _more_ rare occasions do normally quite graceful people slip on the empty shampoo bottles that shouldn't even be there in the first place. And never, _never_ did the freshmen of the tennis team get to leave before the upperclassmen, so under no circumstances should they have all been heading for the locker room at the very moment that said normally graceful person was slipping on the empty shampoo bottle that, had they had a competent cleaning service who knew how to do their job, should have been thrown away the day before _anyway_.  
  
It was, Atobe decided, quite possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life.  
  
And he would be suing the cleaning service as soon as he managed to get Oshitari off of him.  
  
“Whoa,” Shishido said, apparently frozen in the locker room doorway because he hadn't moved a muscle since he'd opened the door approximately thirty seconds ago. Jiroh was behind him, eyes wide as he stood on his tiptoes in an attempt to look over Shishido's shoulder. Beyond him Atobe could see Taki, whose face had gone a brilliant shade of red.  
  
It probably matched his own, actually. Or it would, except Atobe didn't blush. This was common knowledge. He didn't blush, he did not get flustered, and he did not, under absolutely any conditions, lose face in front of the rest of his team.  
  
“This isn't what it looks like,” he managed to say, proud that he was able to hold eye contact and his voice was steady. Then Oshitari chuckled, face buried in Atobe's neck, and Atobe decided he'd rather die than stand here trying to explain the awkward situation he'd been found in.  
  
“Oh yeah?” Shishido said, shock gone from his eyes and instead replaced with an amused, devious sort of look. “What is it, then?”  
  
Atobe clenched his teeth. “Oshitari slipped,” he said, wishing he could push the other boy away but afraid his towel would fall off his hips if he did. “Like the clumsy oaf that he is--”  
  
“Yuushi isn't clumsy,” Gakuto said, poking his head out from underneath Shishido's arm.  
  
“He is today!” Atobe snapped.  
  
It was something of a lie and Oshitari knew it – he was still laughing and puffing hot breaths against Atobe's skin – but explaining just exactly how they'd gotten into this position wasn't exactly an appealing option either, because it would waste time that Atobe would rather spend trying to untangle his limbs from the other boy. That, and the wall was cold against his naked back and was making him rather uncomfortable.  
  
“Do you _mind_?” he snapped at the rest of his teammates, and they finally scattered, Shishido sticking his tongue out at him as he closed the door behind himself.  
  
Atobe made a mental note to make him run fifty laps as soon as he was captain again and what the hell, _why_ was Oshitari trying to snake his hands around Atobe's waist?!  
  
“Excuse me,” Atobe said, shoving a hand against Oshitari's chest. “Exactly _what_ do you think you're doing?”  
  
“You don't have a date yet,” Oshitari said, ignoring Atobe's question. He backed away finally, leaving Atobe scrambling to keep his towel from falling, and eyed him up and down.  
  
“I still have time,” Atobe said. “I'm not wearing a dress.” He paused, and added as an afterthought, “In public.”  
  
Oshitari chuckled. “You could have asked someone at any point today.”  
  
Atobe turned up his nose. “Maybe I didn't feel like it,” he said. “Maybe I'd prefer being stuck in your company rather than having to sit through what could possibly be a painfully awkward evening with some girl I don't even know.”  
  
“Hmm.” Oshitari smirked a bit, tilting his head to the side. “I hear you think midnight blue is your color.”  
  
“Or periwinkle,” Atobe said absently. “Lavender maybe- But that's beside the point.” He leveled a glare on the other boy. “I don't feel like asking out a girl and I'm well within my rights to say no to this entire ordeal.”  
  
“Technically,” Oshitari said slowly, “I didn't say you had to ask out a girl.”  
  
Atobe stared at him. “That's preposterous,” he said. “This entire thing happened because you asked--”  
  
“When the last time you'd gone on a date with a girl was, I know,” Oshitari interrupted. “But the actual deal I made with you was that you only had to get a date for tonight. I didn't specify...anything else.”  
  
“You _implied_ ,” Atobe said, crossing his arms. He absently took a step forward.  
  
“I'm a master of twisting words.”  
  
“That's not even slightly clever. I just overlooked what you said, it's nothing to be proud of.”  
  
“I didn't say I was proud.” Oshitari raised his eyebrows. “So, Atobe. Dress? Or...”  
  
Atobe took another step forward, and was quite pleased when Oshitari didn't step back. “Go to the movies with me,” he said abruptly.  
  
Oshitari grinned. “Alright.” He stared at Atobe for a moment. Atobe stared back.  
  
Somewhere in the background, Atobe could hear his teammates grumbling about having to wait outside.  
  
“Well,” Atobe said, just as Oshitari had started to lean the slightest bit forward. “It seems I have a date for tonight, ahn?” He smirked, pushing the other boy out of the way, and headed for his locker. “I should probably start getting ready for it--”  
  
Having your backed pressed up against the lockers was, for some reason, infinitely better than having it pressed up again the wall.  
  
“Oy!” came Shishido's voice through the door, accompanied by some angry pounding. “Some of us still have to take showers, you know!”  
  
Rather reluctantly, Atobe broke away from Oshitari. “And some of us are lucky enough to have one or two or five of them in our homes,” he called back. Oshitari chuckled. The pounding paused for a second, and then picked up again with even more force behind it.  
  
“My _bag_ is in there, lameass! The door's not even locked, I can come in, you know! I don't want to see anything gross, though, so you'd better be decent!”  
  
“I think we should just stay in tonight,” Oshitari said, ignoring the pounding completely. “We can watch a movie at my house.”  
  
Atobe arched his eyebrows. “A sappy romance?”  
  
“You know you love them,” Oshitari said.  
  
“You know you're delusional,” Atobe returned, a grin stretching over his lips. “Although I like the sound of being alone in your room instead of being stuffed into a movie theater with the rest of Tokyo's teenage population.”  
  
Oshitari laughed. “It's cheaper, too.”  
  
“Yes, that's an entire one-thousand yen I could be putting in my savings account.”  
  
“Besides,” Oshitari said, drawing Atobe in for another kiss just as Shishido finally got fed up and threw the door open. “You said you wouldn't wear the dress in public.”  
  
“Oh, _lame_!”  
  
  
**FIN**


End file.
